Love Well the Hour
by WizardsOfHogwarts
Summary: Grell Sutcliff and his fair lady Madam Red come to terms with their emotions for one another. However, fate is so cruel for they can only have what little time they have left to enjoy their new love. Unfortunately, the possibilities will lead to the same end: Death. Madam Red/Grell Sutcliff, romance/smut, slight OOC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

Grell Sutcliff and his fair lady Madam Red come to terms with their emotions for one another. However, fate is so cruel for they can only have what little time they have left to enjoy their new love. Unfortunately, the possibilities will lead to the same end: Death. Madam Red/Grell Sutcliff, romance/smut, slight OOC

Warnings: Slightly graphic, sexual content (later), and some foul language

**Dedicated to my Madam Red, my greatest love of all and the most beautiful person I have fallen for**

A/N:

UPDATE 11/19/12: CHANGED TITLE AND DESCRIPTION.

* * *

_HEART of my heart, my life and light,_  
_If you were lost what should I do?_  
_I dare not let you from my sight,_  
_Lest Death should fall in love with you._

_Such countless terrors lie in wait._  
_The gods know well how dear you are:_  
_What if they left me desolate_  
_And plucked and set you for their star?_

_So hold my hand—the gods are strong,_  
_And perfect joy so rare a flower_  
_No man may hope to keep it long,_  
_And I might lose it any hour._

_So, kiss me close, my star, my flower,_  
_Thus shall the future spare me this:_  
_The thought that there was ever an hour_  
_We might have kissed and did not kiss._

-Love Well the Hour-

* * *

Angelina cried out.

That was the first thing Grell had woken up to. The bells of the Big Ben rang only four hours before his abrupt pull from his dreams; he was startled at first, unsuspecting of her sudden outburst to be, well, quite the outburst.

Under her request, and usual habit, Grell had fallen into a deep slumber upon the couch across the bed from where she slept. It was rather odd, he would have loved staying at his Lady's side but orders were orders, he complied as any butler and done as told. To be honest, he never would have been flexible with William, after all, the redhead had a very deep passion for the poor woman that kindred the same lust for mutilation.

He would do what he could, in his power, to keep her alive and content so long as she kept him entertained. However, it was only a personal vow and there were times when she would question his presence around her; he would leave her with only empty answers and sudden bursts of gibberish in front of other servants of her house to avoid her questioning. Naturally, as time passed, they grew to understand one another, it was rather wise of her to leave the subject tucked away from any sort of prodding. It was for the better she would go on without knowing.

His thought process had barely registered what was going on within the grand room. Grell fumbled left and right for his glasses and a candle with a nearby match to provide light. Her cries teared into sobs rather quickly, alerting him that she had roused from whatever nightmare and was beginning to grow a sense of consciousness.

He swore that her pitch could have broken glass. "Ah...ah! AAAAH!"

"M...Madam!" His voice was barely audible, his hand slapped his glasses to the bridge of his nose, and his other hand deftly struck a match to light a candle. Taking the little stand of it, Grell threw off his blanket and rushed over to her side, faithful as ever, while setting the candle upon the nightstand.

The ardent glow of the small flame flickered though it was enough to see her form contorted within the white sheets. She had managed to tangle herself within the blankets, a sob had risen from the mound on the bed, he instantly pulled the covers off of her gently and then clambered onto the mattress to gather her up in his arms and rock her slowly.

He brought his legs over and folded them as he sat there, holding her in his arms. She instinctively curled up into his lap and a deluge fallowed, her tears had soaked into his shirt and her body convulsed for moments on end. The poor woman was trembling like a leaf within his arms, all he could do was hold her; he rested his chin onto her head and shushed her quietly.

"I'm here, here, I'm here," he said softly, his hand supported her and brought her closer; he felt her wrap her own around his back, her hands gripped at his shoulder blades. "Shush, shush."

"...ngh...G...guh...Hnm...hmmm.."

"No, don't talk."

Her whimpering abated after a great deal of time, her tension and anxiety slowly ebbed and his presence mollified her, ensuring that she could sleep once more. Without further words or any sort of thank you, she slipped out of his arms and went back under her covers, though she had a portion folded; she motioned for him to sleep by her and, for the first time, he slipped under the covers with her and blew the candle out, leaving them in the pitch of darkness.

It was only a few breaths later, she spoke slowly, voice raspy and slightly hoarse,"I had a nightmare, Grell."

"...indeed you had," he answered. He was on his side, facing her. He could feel her breath upon his neck, it told him she too was facing him. "Would you like to tell me?"

"I lost you."

Grell's eyebrows perked up.

"Lost?" He was rather curious but not inclined to care. He heard her head shifting in a nodding fashion upon her pillow.

"You were simply gone. I went all over London, searching, but you were simply nowhere to be found." Her voice was steady, though it was slightly shaky considering the horror she had relived in her sleep.

"...oh, my fair Lady, how the world has ravage you so brutally..."

Grell had read her Cinematic Record at the Library for extensive research for his later clients that would die by her hands. (He had to know what he had to deal with, after all.) He watched her being brought up within a privileged life; she gained anything and everything she ever wanted, though when her time came as a woman, she lacked what she needed the most. There was _that_ man, the one that she desired so badly, the one she had (if possible in the logic of a Shinigami) given her soul to for all eternity. That man had been the source of her problems, she failed to see how he could never be the solution (though her relentless pursuit had undone her mentality).

When Grell watched the last of her sanity shred to pieces by the people that had abandoned her to the world, he could only correctly assume that she can only be the one human, the one woman, that would stand out from all of the rest. Her persona, her two-masked charade to society and family, her masquerade of being a benefit to whores, those were the attributes that had ultimately drawn Grell to the infamous Madam Red. Oh, and her namesake? It was simply another feature worth dying for.

Seeing her snap was simply the perfect start to a perfect drama, one that Grell could live to act in.

All the blood from whores, the unrequited love, the hopeless romance, the tragic past, as a Shinigami this can only be so easily manipulated to a myriad of extents that can satisfy him; Grell instantly saw himself as the Twentieth Century's Shakespeare, or something of the sorts. The term "Playing God" was quite the understatement to Grell, he took it quite literally.

Grell carefully held her within his arms. She went on ranting about her dream; it was about more of her fears of abandonment though he cared less about them. While they were partially essential for giving her the unique outlook on life. It was quite natural for someone like her to experience the haunting memories, though the fact that she had confessed that this particular one was about him had sparked an interest.

He listened to her when she mentioned his name, he noted that she had mollified herself within his embrace.

"...you're the only person I can trust to never leave; you're immortal, Death can never touch you because you are Death," she had finished with a sigh. His eyebrows perked up.

Fear of death, not to herself but for those closest to her, had plagued her for years, this was quite surprising. She believed that she can finally find resolution within an inhuman being; he never expected this to happen, he was too busy slaughtering whores for his own amusement and their punishment for throwing away the precious lives of the unborn.

"Yes, that's true." Well, what she had recently said was true but he was unsure of the words before it. "...and with me at your disposal, there would not be any way for you to leave me."

And, somewhere along the way, she had fallen back into a comfortable slumber. Her breaths were even and deep, his forearm and shoulder supported her head. Grell exhaled softly and drifted into a doze that would only last for four hours. In the distance he heard Big Ben chime five times, signaling to him that he only had three hours instead to rest.

With a few minutes to mull over her thoughts, he began to reconsider his views about her. She believed that he would never leave her, she was beginning to fall in love with Grell; she was already showing signs of attachment to him and, as he was supposed to be cold-blooded killer with Angelina as his accomplice, he was falling in love for her as well.

However, it was the kind of love you would have for a toy.

-...-

She had awoken from her sleep. Her voice seemed to be a bit sore for some ungodly reason and her eyes were heavy, the puffiness of them made it difficult to open them properly. The light from a window that had been recently opened slightly irritated her eyes, forcing her to bring a delicate hand up to cover the sun's incessant rays of light.

"Up, up," chirped a familiar voice.

It was her butler. She was facing the window, she rolled to her her back to look up at the canopy of her bed and then finally to the side facing the door. She saw, sideways, that Grell was preparing her clothes and neatly had them upon mannequins so that she may choose which to wear for the day. There were only two for options, both were red though they had their charms.

One said pristine and proper while the other flared with seductive and subtle. She chose the proper one and then Grell cleared his throat to announce her schedule.

"Today...there is nothing upon your schedule."

She was surprised. "...nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing, Madam," Grell said quite cheerfully. She managed to get herself into a sitting position to have a more authoritative look. Grell was never one to lie to her but she could not help wonder what he was up to. He had that nervous (though it was obvious to her that it was fake) look to him, he had those apprehensive eyes that seemed to be waiting for a response.

Angelina sighed and looked at her lap.

"I suppose I should take a break for a bit," she admitted. Her mind was still fuzzy over what had happened last night, she struggled to make her voice sound moist. As if reading her mind, Grell had a glass of water ready for her and had presented it to her rather eagerly.

"...why is my voice box in pain?"

Grell seemed to have paused for a bit to think of his words. After his pause and her sip, he answered,"You were screaming in your sleep."

"And my eyes?"

"You wept quite heavily."

Angelina began to recount the events and even the dream. Her face fell and she was struck by that familiar feeling she had been submerged earlier. She looked at him and gave her her water, he took it and placed it upon the nightstand. She scrutinized him.

His brown hair, mousy and slicked back with a few strands loose, gave him a rather boring appearance. Round were his glasses, they made him look like one of those people you find in libraries or so, they gave him even more of a plain look though his eyes made him look like a scared hare. Black was his overcoat, though he had left it to drape over a chair so he had wore only his dress shirt, vest, armbands, and the other knickknacks that were originally on him before he met her.

Through her years of reading men, she had a clear idea that this man was up to something. Looks were nothing, she had the idea that he had arranged everything so that she would have a day off. Since his efforts were quite evident, she decided that she may as well take advantage of this opportunity to have a day to herself for once.

"...thank you for your consideration."

That was all she could say. She refused to look weak to him, he was quite the dangerous man and she was quite wary of him. However, she had developed deep feelings for Grell. They were only little buds of them just waiting to bloom until they had reached full maturity to be considered and properly handled. She had done her best to be as formal to him as possible as of late so as to not feel awkward around him.

She wondered if he ever noticed her change, though men are all the same regardless if they found themselves as women or not.

She noticed Grell's nervous look immediately changed to almost an expression slight displeasure.

"I need to bathe," she said quickly.

Grell nodded without saying a word and immediately strode out of the room, though his strides were brisk and long; it was a sure sign that she had upset him. The sharp claps from his gloved hands alerted her maids to enter and attend to her needs. Grell filed the in and then suddenly left, closing the door behind him somewhat roughly to signify his sudden frustration; a girl squeaked and they all gathered around Angelina to attend to her needs.

"Which dress, Madam?" One with the brunette ringlets asked anxiously.

"The one on the right," she sighed in consternation,"I feel that it should be fine for today."

-...-

During the course of breakfast, Grell would typically shoo away the servants so that he and the Lady would chatter away at idle things while sipping away at their coffee and pieces of toast (Angelina was not the type to eat so heftily in the morning since it would cause her stomach problems while Grell would have his own servings to satisfy his hunger - the man typically ate once a day after all). For this morning, she was surrounded by her servants at hand and foot, it was silent as she sipped away at her coffee. After a few minutes of this, and without taking a bite, she excused herself and left the dining room to wander about her home.

For some ungodly reason her butler was nowhere in sight. She went to the library, he had odd tastes in literature and preferred a good penny-dreadful than an elaborate piece from Oscar Wilde or Thomas Hardin.

She found herself sitting at a couch that faced the fireplace, it was empty and no fire was needed in the spring; she let out a sigh that seemed to echo within the room.

Where she sat was where she and her past-husband would sit before a roaring fire and read book after book with one another, enjoying companies and even having a bit of a carnal embrace. Her hand unconsciously brushed over the velvet cushion; a spark seemed to have struck in her chest and she looked ahead out at the window.

The outside world, so turbulent at the most, looked inviting though she decided to stay within her home and reminisce over the things that happened before. She leaned against the back rest and looked to her right to see that a book was out of place from its usual spot within the shelves. She took it at hand and saw that a slip of paper marked where the reader had last read his or her page.

It was leather bound, the spine of it was highly decorated with grooves and golden letters that had the abbreviation of A.D.B.

Out of curiosity she opened it. What perplexed her was that her name was written in numerous places with dates at the corners of each page; it was like a diary of sorts.

Her eyes raced each sentence for a few pages, it was of her and her sister during the time at the family's summer home at the edge of the English Channel; it was the time Rachel received a cut upon her leg while trying to search the tide pools with her sister. Angelina remembered that they had lied to their father and stated that a man attacked them; it was a pure excuse for them to leave earlier, they were dreadfully bored! But then it caught her, no one should know of this, it was a secret. It was a childish secret but one nonetheless.

She skimmed over to the most recent part where the bookmark (which was a piece of paper) was wedged between a few of the later pages.

She read through it.

_Angelina reads the page. Angelina reads the page within a book, she was confound to find that there are paragraphs across the pages. She reads the page. Angelina reads the page. She reads the sentence that is about her reading a sentence. She tries to decipher this odd talk._

Angelina rubbed her eyes and read the book once more.

"_`What madness is this?' she thinks._ Why...it's writing it on it's own."

It took her a few seconds to realize that the words were practically appearing before her in black ink.

_She turns around when she hears a cough from across the room, it was Grell._

Angelina managed to tear her eyes away from the book. Instantly she turned around at the sound of a cough; at the door was Grell.

"I was looking for that book," Grell stated bluntly,"it's quite surprising that you found it though."

He came inside and walked around the couch to be in front of her. She closed the book but refused to hand it over to him just yet. Curiosity had deepened and she grew anxious as to what exactly was this magical object she held within her hand. Firmly, so as to avoid him walking all over her like he had earlier, she questioned,"Exactly, what is this book?"

"Simple, the Book of Life, yours in particular. Not yet a Cinematic Record since yours is still playing within you. But there's no use in you knowing any more, to be frank, you can't exactly enjoy the benefits and real uses of this. Please, that book is important to me-"

"You mean to say I'm important to you?" She had hope within her voice, she felt her heart skip a beat.

She had no clue what a Cinematic Record was, she trusted him for withholding the information, but the fact that he had acknowledged her in his own way (though he seemed oblivious to this) made her feel that there may possibly be some sort of requited feeling from him to her. Perhaps it was time for that rose to bloom and be cared for.

"...I know your thoughts," he sighed even though she gave him no order to confess her feelings to him. "And, if it would make your heart race any more than it is right now, I have taken the liberty of observing you through other means."

Grell went to her side and sat down at the other end of the couch. He seemed discontented with something, his gloves were removed so that he could look at his nails. Angelina felt a bit intimidated by him for some odd reason but she kept the book close to her. "...I suppose that you know a majority of my life."

"Yes, yes, quite so, indeed," Grell answered, his attention went to her,"and to prove it, I was going to take you out on the trip around England."

Angelina placed two and two together to reply,"You canceled all of my appointments just to spend time with me?"

Grell slowly nodded, he gave a motion for her to hand the book to her. Now she understood, at least what she knew, why he would read up on her. Perhaps he had researched her in order to give her the time of her life; he mind raced, she was beginning to think like a teenager. He would probably take her out on a ride around London, go shopping with her, stroll down the parks, or probably anything couples these days would normally do. Oh, how exciting! But then her dream fell face first on to the floor; Grell Sutcliff was her butler and she was his Master, it would be inappropriate to go about as though he were a lover to her.

And, on another fact, the look he was giving her made her feel uncomfortable. He seemed to be growing impatient with waiting for the book, she instantly handed it to him, crestfallen.

Instantly, he opened it and read the most recent entries to himself; she could tell since his lips were moving just slightly.

His behavior was odd to her for the day. His fallowing statement was cryptic. "Oh, dear Madam, now that you know about my surprise it wouldn't exactly be a surprise at all." He frowned and looked towards the window. "I suppose I can go for a different plan."

"Plan?" She asked dumbly. He got up from his seat and offered his hand to her, she hesitated before taking it. The way he was acting was out of bounds, it was too casual for a butler to his lady but she tried to remind herself that he was simply a partner in crime. In all honesty, he should be the one treated as a guest to the household and yet he partially took his role seriously; he only went as far as driving and acting as a servant only in public.

In the reality, when the two are not spending time together, he rarely approached her and yet stayed within earshot or eye-shot, perhaps it was out of observation of the Madam. She grew used to him but had grown tired of this sad relation; it never seemed to have gone any further than what she would have expected.

Without an answer, Grell walked on and away from her, she followed him, curious as to what he has planned for her. It has to be large since it required her to skip work and appointments for a day. They strode out of the library and into the hall.

Numerous curtains were drawn back, the hallway was illuminated and several servants were up and about cleaning the windows or polishing any silver that was displayed upon the walls. Grell clapped his hands and they were all gone in a heartbeat, buckets and cloths in all. Angelina noticed that he was singling her out, they were alone as they made their way turned his head a mere centimeter though she knew he was checking very briefly to see if she was following him.

"Do you remember the first time you lost it?" He asked quietly, stopping in the middle of a stride. She consequently bumped strait into him, her feet shuffled and she stumbled back a bit. He pivoted around to face her, he had a slight smile across his face.

"...excuse me?"

"Three years ago, you slaughtered that whore without an ounce of remorse because she called children useless; you were provoked by words and had the hall to burn the Guineas. I found it quite...intriguing that one such as you would have the soul to do so, though looking back at you I wouldn't blame the circumstances. Husband, child, sister, love, everyone you held dear to yourself has come and gone; one of which never even seen your face. Looking back, I find you now to be...tragic and yet so well-played in my eyes."

Angelina felt the first surge of blood course through her body, it was of anger. How dare he spoke of the ones she cherish! How dare he do so in such disrespect! How dare he! How dare...

"How dare you! I said of you to never speak of them!" She shouted, raising her hand and then slapped him across the face. That smug smile was still there, he made to open his mouth but she slapped him once more. "No! Not another word from you!"

Her hand retracted to hit him once more but his own went to take a firm grasp upon her thin wrist. "Dear lady, oh fair, sweet woman, I look at you now and look at what you've become."

She attempted to wretch her hand away from his grasp, having realized that she had assaulted the one person she would never want to cross. While they were partners and had a degree of trust, he was still much more lethal, much more dangerous, and much more destructive than she was. The man wielded a machine operating on some sort of liquid he demanded from Arabia, he knew how to use it and, under her instruction, now knows how to cleanly shred human flesh with only a tiny scapula with deft precision. She was stuck and could not move, he seemed to be enjoying her sudden fear.

"You've become the epitome of Death itself, you bring it so mercilessly, I find it utterly stunning."

And then his fingers slowly released her wrist but crept up to gingerly touch her palm. She could feel his gloved fingers brushing against her skin before traveling up to intertwine with her appendages. With such a suddenly, gentle contact she had thrown all wrath out the window to better comprehend what he was about to say.

"But your play is coming to an end real soon, very, but that won't come by these hands. No, they will come first by the boy Phantomhive and then next by me, myself. For the sake of pride, would it better for me to draw the curtains or let someone else do so?"

Angelina stared at him as though he were speaking with Lau's tongue. "I...don't understand."

"I'm in love with you, dear Madam, but you aren't the only one who has the fear of being alone," he said, though it was a murmur. He let her hand free and his face looked away from hers. "The love you so enamored yourself all these years is not true, it's the power to end it yourself is what can give it closure."

In pure honest, he was telling her gibberish. She gave a puzzled expression but a few seconds more gave her time to register the statement in which he said he was in love with her. The rest of what he said was thrown out the window for he spoke of something she desperately wanted to hear for so long, something that would come from a familiar.

"Call for my name when you have understood my words."

-...-

He remained quiet for her, he knew that she was a careful riddle solver and that he had quite the habit to say his speech in riddles, but in his sense, he could only have said her future in the most blunt way as possible. There will come a time when that damned brat catches upon their trail and attempt to hound them down like the relentless beast he was, or so claims to be, and Angelina would be unable to escape her fate.

Grell turned around and walked away, he didn't look back, for he already knew she would stand there. He knew it was a habit of hers to just stand there and stare into space. Grell gently bit his lip as he rounded the corner. He had seen his updated Death Ledger, she was placed at number thirteen, the last soul to reap from this serial collection. To be honest, he would rather let her live on but all good things must come to an end, thus, memories would live on.

"Memories are such a redundant thing," Grell uttered to himself.

And they were. They held sentimental value but the feelings, well, they are just contorted over time as opinions change due to the altering mind. He doesn't want her to die, not too soon, not so soon. He began to rethink his thoughts from last night. Now that he told her that he loved her, which he knew that was something he should come to proper terms with, it would be the catalyst for the events yet to come. Reading up on her future would spoil everything, for he just added a dramatic twist to her story.

His pondering had lead him to the courtyard. It was rather small but large enough for an arena passed the main garden, along with the stables tucked away in the back. The late Baron Barnette was a skilled horseman renown for his dressage and hunting capabilities; Angelina was not so keen upon riding, as seeing it to be unladylike, but had a fair bit of knowledge. It was rare to see her riding one of her husband's steeds, let alone be near one.

"Mr. Sutcliff! Mr. Sutcliff!"

But as for Grell, he found himself to be fond of the animal.

"Yes?" He answered. The ostler was a young boy, he was dressed neatly though his pants had been stained from his job at the stables. He looked fearful, Grell knelt to him and was at eye level. "What is it?"

"I...I'm sorry, b-but your horse won't get up," he sniffled out,"Perry says that he may have rolled and did something to his withers."

Grell perked up at this. He had grown a fair bond to one of the late Baron's horses, his name was Leon. Once in a while he would use this horse to ride about, sometimes even go with the jumps upon him. He was an imported Andalusian from Madrid, highly trained and very well-mannered, he never threw a fuss. Grell had always found white to be such a boring color but the stallion had made it quite the marvelous color, the gracefulness even matched the quality of his gait.

Concerned, though dreading to find Leon, Grell and the stable-boy went off to the stall in which the poor animal was laying upon the ground, withering and whining at the pain of whatever he had done to himself. The sight of Grell made the horse point his ears upward and his spirit seemed to rise, though Grell had a different plan.

"Fetch me a Winchester," Grell said. Without question, the boy went off. Grell was left alone with Leon.

The steed laid there, helpless and hopeless. There was nothing to be done. He had once heard that a lame horse would be no horse, Grell understood that; he had dealt with humans dying, an animal would be much less than that. In fact, he could practice letting go, right now. The horse nickered but gave an odd look when Grell simply stood there to watch him. He looked on as if saying,_'Why aren't you comforting me? We're friends, right?'_

He was giving her that desperate look Angelina would have in her Cinematic Records.

Within moments, the boy returned, but with several servants with him. They all knew just as much as Grell.

A rifle was giving to Grell, he took it at hand, checked the barrel and cartridge, and was satisfied at it being loaded and ready. Slowly, he cocked it within the crook of his shoulder and aimed directly between Leon's- no, the animal's eyes. He heard the men hold their breaths, the horse's final nickers were echoing in his ears, the gears were clicking.

And then a starling crack snapped through the air, the recoil had made Grell nearly lose his balance. A riot from nearby birds came screeching across the courtyard, the men were gasping. He heard the horse squealing and withering once more until the pounding of its hooves stopped. Grell handed the Winchester to one of the men and ordered,"Clean this up, all of it."

He turned away, he didn't need to see Leon, he knew he was dead. It was out of habit for him, after all, he would rather have his own possessions die by his hand. Angelina had slowly became his own these passed few years, he would rather end her than letting that brat take the mercy killing from him.

-...-

The resounding crack had reached as far as Madam Red from her room. In an instant, as though she had been forced into the decision that would change her life without a second thought, she cried out,"Grell!"

And, with a few seconds going by, the knock was heard upon her door. She had been sitting on the couch Grell would normally be slumbering in at night. For some reason, she had wandered to his sleeping area and felt safe from where he normally would be. Perhaps it was the sense of security she gained that attracted her to hold this blanket so dearly as well. She even had the need to inhale his scent, metallic and yet rosy, it had sent shivers down her spine with a feeling of warmth coursing through her body.

She got up from her seat and approached the door, though it suddenly opened with Grell giving her the same look earlier; cryptic and ominous. He stood before her, those acid green eyes bore into her own, down into her soul, as of trying to wretch it out like a whore's organs. She took a step back.

Angelina was daunted by his figure. That flaming, red hair seemed a bit more brilliant from the sun's rays hitting him at the right angle, all she knew was that it was a clear sign of danger. "What happened?"

She simply rolled that off her tongue. She was curious. For God's sake, there was a gunshot, she had the right know about the events. Right?

"I had just conducted a mercy killing," he bluntly answered, he didn't dance around this,"I suppose you can put two and two together?"

From their little quarrel in the hall, she only had ten minutes to contemplate his words. She could only know that he loved her, for that's what stuck to her mind, but, only now, she had began to understand his power, his true occupation. He is a Shinigami, a god of death, he is Death. Though the irony was that he had proclaimed his love for her, well, there could be no irony to that. The mention of mercy killing had clicked to her that he would do his job as a Shinigami out of love.

And then she lost her fear of him. She dryly laughed, softly,"If you know me so well as you claim yourself to be, why should I have the answer you? You know what I think up in my mind anyway, there just isn't a point in telling you."

"It wouldn't be as satisfying if I read it," he shot back at her, taking a step towards her. He crossed the threshold and closed the door, he locked it without turning back to see. The sound of the lock clicking suddenly alarmed her, she felt unsafe near him. "I love watching my plays live, please don't make yourself into a penny-dreadful."

"I thought you loved those-"

"I bloody hate them for real life situations."

He maintained that gaze. Normally he would try to avoid her line of sight but he was up, front and center, for her view. She tried to recall what he said to her, she tried to analyze it as fast as she could.

Love. Mercy. Closure.

Closure.

"An end to the madness? Grell, you're questioning my sanity, I find that to be offensive. Unless you're talking about yourself-"

She wasn't trying to be humorous but he suddenly smiled. She had felt relieved at this. So he was speaking of himself. He has been enamored with her then but how could he see it to be so false? She is a human and he is a Shinigami, he had the ability to end her, and he was reluctant to do it. That was what he was trying to get her to see. His occupation had its drawbacks, she would be the one human that he would regret to reap for his pay.

He motioned for her to approach him, and when she did, he wrapped his arms around her to embrace her tightly. "My dear, precious Madam Red, I was telling you about myself, and that is true. I told you I am in love with you, I don't even have to look at your book to know that you doubt me. I admit, I can be dubious but I am also hesitant."

She had grown tired of this hesitant act. It was what brought her to be who she was today. She was hesitant to Vincent, she had lost him in the end. She was unwilling to let this happen to Grell. Now that she had an idea as to who he is, she was sure of herself to approach him without qualms.

"I was too until life taught me to take whatever I can, and I did. I still do." She pulled away from him slightly to look up at him. He was looking down at her, those eyes mysterious and now warming. "I believe, no, I know I am in love with you as well. You...can't die. That's the beauty of you."

But she pulled away. The blanket upon the sofa had fallen to the floor, she gathered it up and tossed it upon the cushions to keep it from collecting anymore dust and lint.

"What do we do now?" Angelina asked him, facing the wall. "You say that you know my Cinematic Record, my life is a book and now I know the author who can alter my end. With that in mind, what do you do? A writing of my life is now a reality, I have the knowledge of any manipulation that can occur to myself. What do I do with that? What are we to do?"

She heard him shuffling his feet, his tongue clicked thoughtfully. "Continue on. And besides, it's not a book, Madam, it's a life, a play, a drama."

Angelina huffed at that and gently shook her head, her lips curled into a smile. She had the belief that God was behind her misfortunes, every single time she had gone through the hard moments in life she blamed him but with Grell at her side, as he literally held her life in his hands, she no longer feared that omnipotent God. It was an irony to her to learn that there was a way to change life through otherworldly means, she has found the bringer of Death but that was all that was needed to prove that life was a complicated book written with numerous twists and turns.

"Continue on-"

"As we always have been, bringing justice, murdering those bitches, plotting our next move."

"But my nephew."

"That is where it will not end, I won't let it. You're too much for even Death to accept, too much for myself to accept but fate is fate and I can no longer change what we have been doing. Enough of that, it's nothing a human would have to carry upon their shoulders."

His hand had made it to her shoulder and carefully grasped it. She gasped and looked back, only to be met with a pair of soft lips that were a bit dry. It took a moment for her to register the fact that they had contacted each other like this. She froze in place, feeling as though she was having a man touch her for the first time. Gently he turned her whole body to face him, then his other hand came about to rest comfortable on her waist. She found her own hands at his chest pressing against him but then slowly having her fingers grasp the cloth of his vest.

His lips parted, as did hers, and slowly, tongues came to dance with one another, sensually, softly.

It was him that moaned so quietly, he even sighed so longingly. The air grew thick with his bloody scent, she felt so intoxicated by him, she wondered how he managed to do that so naturally, it was as though his mouth contained red wine, for that was what she tasted. She reluctantly pried her lips from his, though they were only a few centimeters apart, and inquired,"Were you drinking?"

"Perhaps but I was about to ask the same thing to you, my dear Lady," he purred deeply, it sent shivers up her spine.

"Hnm, yes," she murmured, only to press herself closer to him to have that feeling radiate from his own person,"but I suppose we can wait for nighttime. After all, that's when sweet nothings are distilled to be more sweeter."

"Ah, you're a fan of words I see, that's certainly new."

-...-

Night had fallen upon London.

Grell was dressed in his usual disguise. Brown, dull hair. Dull jacket, dull shoes, everything was simply dull but necessary. His eyes scanned the alleyway, a lone blonde in a sultry dress seemed to be eying him. Madam Red had concealed herself behind the corner so that the prostitute would focus solely on Grell.

He uttered out, for his lady was a few inches away from the turn,"She's the one?"

"Certainly, I can smell her stench from here," Angelina replied, though there was a bit of venom to her voice.

While her schedule, well, domestic, social, and working schedule, was empty for the day, the night had brought a different set of agendas for her to set for herself and accomplish. She was thankful that she had no work for the day, it gave her time to collect her thoughts for the evening's kill. This woman had her operation done about week ago, and typically Angelina would wait for that long in order to pay visits to Ciel or attend other affairs. In her book, and Grell's, the whore was slated to die tonight.

She peered around the corner to see that Grell had went from his spot over to the whore. He seemed to be glaring at the woman but she paid no mind, the sight of the bag of coins had caught her interest. With her distracted and backed turned, Angelina approached her from behind, creeping up to her so stealthily.

The moonlight cast a shadow of her sleek form crouching with her knife held parallel at her waist. As she had found herself close enough, she could hear the conversation that Grell was holding so aloofly.

"You know what color would suit you more, dear?" Grell asked so placidly, he was suddenly smiling when he and Angelina caught one another's gaze.

"What, sir?"

"Red, blood red. Yellow is too bright and not rich enough for men to love. No wonder you ended up as you are..."

The woman backed straight into Angelina but before she could react, the doctor had taken her knife and cleanly slit her throat wide open. Blood spluttered upon Grell's front as the heart continued to pump that crimson liquid. From Grell's view, the windpipe was exposed and torn apart to prevent the whore from screaming, amazingly she was still alive. She was moving about violently but then Grell pounced her to the ground, Angelina sidled to the side to clean off her stained blade and then dive by Grell's side when he was straddling the whore.

His brilliant teeth shown in the moonlight, he could have been mistaken for Dracula with his green eyes glowing so vibrantly.

Angelina let a broken laugh ring from the base of her throat as Grell got off of the poor woman but he kept his hands at her shoulders to prevent her from squirming any more. The rapid inhales from the open windpipe were growing fainter by the second but Angelina paid no mind as she took her newly cleaned knife and used her adroit hands to carve into the woman's stomach. She went deep, making sure that the whore felt the pain before her death.

"The dress," Grell murmured, though he began to chuckle as the woman's hands dug into the concrete, nails breaking and skin tearing. "It's so hideous."

After a few seconds of digging and searching, Angelina found the womb, the uterus. She tugged at it and severed the cords that connected it to the vaginal cavity. With it came the ovaries that were suspended in the air. The uterus was discarded, tossed to the wall. All that was there upon the whore was a maddening hole in her stomach. Apparently, the woman breathed so little and, slowly, her head tipped to the side and she no longer struggled.

As long as she saw Angelina rip her body open, it wouldn't matter what else would happen.

Her time and experience had taught Angelina to be precise and clean with her killings, she had little to no blood upon her person even as she sheathed her knife into her sleeve. It was also thanks to the knife itself, a gift from Grell from when he first met her, it was a death scythe. While she couldn't see the Cinematic Rips, she would catch Grell holding out the Death Ledger and staring into space in boredom before stowing the book away. She looked up from her art to see Grell watching whatever he could see.

"Her life is playing out for you?"

Grell nodded, not saying a word yet. He spent a minute murmuring incoherent words after releasing the whore. Unlike Angelina, he was covered down the front in crimson liquid. His bloody, gloved hand reached into the air as the other held his book. "Roslyn, Edna. Born 31 October 1868. Cause of death, exasnguination. No further note."

His attention snapped to her and he smiled so sweetly, offering a hand to her once he got to his feet. She took it as she stepped up. "...say, why couldn't we have ridden Leon tonight?"

"He snapped his withers or broken a leg, but he was of no use. I had to end his suffering earlier, that was why you heard that gun go off," he explained as he knelt down to her side and, with a swooping motion, picked her up and carried her bridal style,"but enough of that. Would my Lady care to fly?"

She could feel the blood soak into her own sleeves when she wrapped her arms around his neck, she gasped,"Wait, why? Grell, you don't mean-"

She looked down at him, her heart racing. Pounding. It was of excitement, of anxiety, of fear. She had seen him travel across rooftops, with only his red ribbon as a faint indicator of his movements, never before had she dared think of letting him carry her at such a speed. The sight of his mad grin and mischievous eyes, which did not suit his innocent disguise, made her mind reel into a whirl of emotions though the whirl had turned into a cyclone when she felt him kick off the ground and send the pair off into the sky.

She held taught around his neck and was unable to suppress a scream. She dug her face into his chest and her entire body became tense.

All that she could see were the rapid patterns of bricks though it took only a second for the monotonous image to break into a full expanse of the sleeping London. It literally took her breath away.

Their weight was briefly suspended though his grip under her legs and back had gotten firmer.

"Why're you so afraid, my Madam. It's a beautiful sight to see," Grell said over the gentle winds,"but don't look down just yet."

And she peeked even more, gasping in awe at the height he had launched himself to. She paid attention to his warning as they were suddenly free falling, she felt his body jar, just slightly, at the contact to a solid surface. He had landed upon the tiled roof but he kicked off once more, breaking into a sprint this time. She held him as he picked up a considerably large amount of speed, it was enough to propel him to another roof, and then another, until colors blurred all around her.

She shut her eyes but, amazingly, never grew sick to his movements due to his gentleness and careful steps taken to prevent his sprints from becoming too jagged. Soon enough, she felt comfortable in his arms, she quickly fell into a doze, seeing that the easy rocking motions of him were enough to mollify her.

-...-

He landed on the balcony of her manor.

"Angelina?" He said as he went through the door that was left open, it led to her sleeping chambers. She had fell into a deep slumber within his arms though he placed her onto the bed, she still failed to awaken but she would have to soon enough, her clothes and skin were stained from the blood upon himself. Luckily, having been prepared for the night, he arranged for the servants to prepare two, separate, warm baths before the time they would arrive home.

Grell smiled down at her.

Tonight, all she did was tear the whore's stomach to pieces but didn't partake in any activity other than that. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple, then he strode over to the door. It was unlocked but he took the key and locked it to ensure that none would bother them.

"Passed ten already?" Grell mumbled to himself. He was used to overtime but he never liked the idea of being up so late. Slowly, but surely, he began to make his way to the lavatory. His bare skin, from the waist up was exposed to the slightly rigid air. He had to remember to light the fireplace before the woman awakens from her sleep.

In Angelina's grand bathroom, there were two, clawed tubs, both of which could fit two. For reasons why she would have it, he knew that she threw outrageous parties that wandered on with adventurous nights with the myriad of the male harems she would invite should she grow a bit bored, or perhaps a bit too far with hormones; he remembered when he first met her, she would tell him to go off and entertain her other guests. Oddly, only a year ago, she had ceased bringing her "friends" and only contented herself to pay attention to Grell himself, thus leading her to not host her own parties.

_So she did grow smitten with me that long ago. Women are always moral around their man but are much less when not._

He went over to one that was filled half way to the brim. The water was hot, just the way he preferred it. He saw himself in the large mirror, he took notice how his face was smeared a bit with blood, at some point, the bitch may have slapped him with her bloodied hand. The imprint was there upon his cheek, he smiled at that, sighing that he would have to remove it during his cleansing.

His hair, now a blazing red (he was safe at home so the disguise had no need), was slightly caked in blood, he would have to rinse that as well. He stripped himself of his slacks and undergarment (his glasses were left on the counter by the sink), then he made his way for the bath. He dipped his hand in, he was satisfied with the water once more, and eventually he gripped the edge of the rim with both. He brought a leg over and hoisted himself into the water.

A sigh escaped once more as he lowered his being into a sitting position. The blood within his hair immediately diluted into the water like ink, his hands scooped up a bit to wash his face. He washed his face once more, making sure to get rid of the dried blood. Once more he did so, but as the last drops of water dripped to the surface, he heart the unmistakeable clicks of heels against the marble tiles of the floor. He turned his head, for his back was to the entrance of the lavatory.

"You're awake," Grell said, voice echoing throughout the room. He saw her at the corner of his eye, the faint outline of red grew more defined as she approached closer. Soon enough, she was at the side of the tub. He had little decency to cover himself up in his nether regions, she was a woman, he expected her to be mature about situations like this. And, above his standards, she never wavered before him.

"Yes, I am. I must admit, it was rather cold there, in that room," she spoke quietly, but he was aware that she had awoken alone and had quickly went off to find him. He could see her clearly now, there was a slight smirk upon her face. "My clothes are dirty...is it not your job to actually ensure that I am presentable at all times?"

"True, true, though being a servant through and through doesn't mean that I have no partnership with you. Please, I suffered more regarding dirtiness, allow me to bathe. This all is a facade." He washed his face once more. He waited for an answer from her and when he cleared his eyes of the water, he saw that the overcoat of Angelina had been stripped away, revealing only a white blouse that covered her bountiful chest, though it and her waist were strangled by a corset underneath. "Madam?"

She took a stool and sat upon it, her hands took the cuffs of each sleeve and rolled them up. To her side was a bucket, she took it, submerged it into the water, and poured it onto Grell, soaking his entire head and only the top layer of his hair. It all happened so fast, he never expected it.

He looked forward.

"If you're not my servant, say you take this as yourself being an all powerful deity, I have the responsibility to care for your appearance just as much as mine," she giggled, he noticed that her spirits had lifted considerably,"you are, in the reality, a guest to my house and this world, it's the least I could do."

Grell had never counted on her being so generous towards others in such an intimate way, especially to him. In fact, it was the first time she had been this kind to him. He thought back throughout his life. It was the first time in his long life that someone had shown some sincerity. He wanted to cry at that, for this human had touched a spot in his heart that triggered a deluge of emotions, his mind spun as his thoughts reeled on to his views upon her.

Another bucket of water was poured upon his head, her hands were suddenly running through his endless strands of his brilliant, red hair. They were gentle to his scalp, trying to figure out where to start for washing his lengthy mane. Eventually, her hands pulled away and water was poured to his hair once more.

He had realized that he truly loved Angelina.

But then she asked the question that surprised him of her sharp memory. "Earlier you said that you had a plan, but then I spoiled it for myself so you decided on a different one. What was it? Do tell me."

Grell felt his lips curl at both ends, he turned his head once more to look at her in the eyes.

"I confessed earlier that I am a doubtful person, I fancy myself as a playwright and actress, both of which are helpful tools to create masterpieces though there comes a time when you need romance to your story. Life is an ongoing piece, yours was lacking so much in what you needed so I find that it wouldn't hurt to try and spice things up a bit. I wanted to see if you fully understand that I am manipulate you to my will, but now I want to see if you are capable of love on your own. If you can say, I did heal you but can you maintain that for yourself?"

She sighed, without words he knew that she had confused her.

He thought for a moment. "Wait...ah, let me say this differently. Hm. Oh, Angelina, you've twisted me into my own story, for I had forgotten the plan to begin with. Today was something in which you gave me hints to a dying question. Answer me, though I don't even have to look at your Book to know. Angelina, I find that I'm in love with you now, I truly am, but would you return my affections?"

Water dripped. Her face changed to being so loving, so relieved, it was as though her burden had lifted. She could only answer with,"I've been waiting for you to say that for a long time, Grell. Yes, I'll return your affections under one condition."

"Anything, Madam."

"You will never leave my side. Ever."

And then his heart broke but he answered anyway,"It shall be done."

Oh, when the time comes for them to part, the pain he would have to comprehend would shatter his world completely. He had clear knowledge of this but he was a playwright with the attributes of a god, he had the powers to change fate, he will cheat Death. He will cheat himself to keep her alive, what a cruel irony this is for Grell Sutcliff.

* * *

A/N: Originally this was supposed to be a one-shot but I guess I'll let this go on for another chapter to close it up. Promise for the smut in the next chapter.

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	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

* * *

"That should do it," she said, clapping her hands together.

They were situated in the middle of Angelina's bed.

His long crimson hair had taken most of the night to part and braid, by the time she was done, the half of the length had already dried up. She used his red bow to tie off the end so that when he were to sleep, the hair would be neat in the morning. He sat in front of her, hands going to loose strands and adjusting them so that they would be out of his face.

"Thank you, dear Lady," he replied, smiling. It was nice to have someone else care for his hair for a change. The mirror across the room allowed him to see her handiwork and he praised her under his breath,"Such a careful pattern."

She heard him but decided that it was better to be quiet.

"As expected by hands as deft as yours." He turned around to face her hand take her hands, clasping them within his own and letting his thumbs caress her skin. "So soft, they are, milady."

A blush was suddenly smeared across her face and he smiled. It was adorable to see her soul suddenly come to life with such flattery and her heart impersonating that of a schoolgirl being treated by her crush. To give her more of something to remember, he brought them to his lips and gently kissed each finger, slowly; he made eye contact with her and she averted her gaze to look at the roaring fire in her fireplace.

When he bestowed the last kiss upon her pinky, he brought them to his cheek; he opened her palms so that she could cradle his head.

"Grell," she murmured, voice timid and telling him that she was uncomfortable.

She wore a white nightdress with sleeves, it was simple and pure, just as any other woman would wear to be modest. The fact that she was before a man who wore only cotton slacks made her slightly at an unease position, as if she were seeing a man's torso for the first time.

He was lean, muscular, and he had such a define form. Grell admitted to himself that he had the physical prowess of a lion but preferred to hide it away through a feminine persona. He noticed how her eyes were slowly coming to look at him, but not at his eyes; she was taking a rather long gander.

"What are you looking at?"

Her face snapped up. "Oh? Um, I feel tired now." She sped up her words. "Yes, very tired!"

He smirked at her and then released her hands, placing them into her lap before leaning to the side and taking a random shirt to wear. He buttoned up each but popped open the last three holes so that he wouldn't get too hot in the night. He crawled off the bed and she shifted around to be at the head of her mattress. She went under the covers as Grell began to blow out the candles around them, starting with the one furthest from her. By the time he doused all five, she was already laying under the sheets, watching him, even in the darkness.

"Well, I thank you for assisting me in my bathing, Angelina." He turned heel but her voice spoke out to him.

"Lay with me tonight, Grell, I don't want to...sleep alone. After all, you're my guest, you should be given the best of treatment."

In an instant, he dove under the covers, scooping her up in her arms, causing her to cry out in surprise. He laughed warmly and, once she had gotten a hold of the situation, she joined him. He was on his back, he nestled her on top of him, hands at her sides and keeping her snug in his hold. She giggled at this and rested her head upon his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He rolled to his side, just slightly, but maintained his hold on her while tangling his legs with hers.

Once the laughter quieted down, his arms were now around her, keeping her protected.

"Grell..."

"Hm?"

He adjusted the sheets so that it would cover the both of them comfortably.

"I don't know what I will do without you nor what I would have done if you were never here."

He pressed his lips onto the top of her head and breathed in her scent. "Let's not think about the choices you could have made, after all, with me, you live no more regrets. To you I may as well be the edge of your life." He kissed her again and cuddled her even closer but gave enough room for her to breathe. "Hesitation is what brings the fall of everyone."

She mumbled,"I was complimenting you."

Grell sighed. "I'm not worthy of your compliments, milady, now go to bed; you have work tomorrow."

-...-

She sipped her coffee and read the paper though she peered over the top to glance at Grell delicately eating his eggs. He stated that he wasn't worthy of her praise but it could be that he was a humble person. She read the front page briefly and then placed it on the table loudly for Grell to look over at her. His braid was undone but tied back into a ponytail as he resumed his disguise as her human butler.

His fork was still at hand but he put down his knife to reach over. He glanced at the servants and they all bowed before leaving, the door closed behind them and he quietly said,"We're on the paper again, Angelina." He read it with a gusto. "Jack the Ripper Strikes Again!"

"I'm sure we're changing London for the better, make all those whores stay with their legs closed and giving them an intensive to find some morals," she spat bitterly,"find a family and all that." She finished her drink. "You can ogle at the paper longer, as you said earlier, I must leave for work-"

"Let me come with!" He pipped up. She raised an eyebrow. The man never asked to come with her to work nor even bid farewell, there must have been a sudden change of things. He folded the paper neatly and wiped his lips, he drank the last of his coffee and clapped his hands twice; the servants came pouring in to clean the dining area. "I think it'll be quite educational."

"As much as I hate to summarize my the majority of my job, it is all paper-pushing and examining patients. Where is the education in all of it?"

Grell looked offended. "I'm curious to see how humans keep themselves alive in medicine nowadays. The last time I checked, doctors amputated anything they saw fit!"

"...we still practice that."

"Well, that's disappointing but that still won't stop me from following you-"

"No."

She rubbed her temples before getting up from her chair. She ordered her steward to ready her satchel and coat so that she may leave, though Grell got up as well and followed her to the front door. It was opened by the doorman as Grell was given the coat to place onto Angelina. She honestly couldn't focus on her job if Grell were to come with her despite the fact that he could as a naive man that seemed to be timid of the world around him. Despite his protests, she firmly ended the conversation with,"Fine, you can meet me there after work and we can go shopping! Is that satisfying?"

Grell suddenly beamed at her, his disappointed expression becoming that of a teenage girl being told she could be near a man. He squealed giddily and hugged her as she was given her satchel. He happily asked,"When will you get off today?"

"Perhaps after two, three-"

"Oh, I'll drive!"

The steward gave a weary look towards Angelina but she waved her hand at this. "Let him." She made eye contact with Grell. "But I will call you, alright?

He nodded excitedly, smiling even wider, until the door slammed shut before his face. In an instant, he frowned and turned away, looking to occupy himself with something in the manor. As he took a few steps towards the stairs, the steward coughed and Grell went to look at the aging man in black.

"What is it?" Grell asked sharply. In response, a batch of letters were offered to him.

"I saw how desperate you were to see the Madam off and it was quite unlike her to push you away with such a meager compensation. These are the letters that arrived this morning but I neglected to give the over breakfast, then I withheld them when I witnessed you protesting. Perhaps you can take them to her?"

Grell stared at the golden envelopes. He took them and shuffled through them, all of them were addressed to Angelina. He pocketed all of them and turned away from the stairs, ordering,"Tell the ostler to ready a horse, I need to run errands today."

"Yes, Mr. Sutcliff. Oh, and sir?"

He looked over his shoulder.

"We may be servants to Madam Red but we take notice of her grief, you may as well be the one to help her. On behalf on everyone, we encourage you, sir, to let her forget the pain she has gone through these recent times. It has been a while since we've seen her happy."

"...I'll take note of that, thank you." He gave him a small bow out of appreciation and the steward nodded before walking away. Light poured from the window, slightly turning the dim entrance into a brilliant blaze of red and gold from the decor and walls. It was nearing towards noon, he checked his watch and huffed.

Her sadness is obvious at home but the boy she loves and hates is oblivious to her ordeal, if he knew, he may show mercy and forget his feral ways.

"A dog is a dog."

-...-

The horse trotted for several streets, snorting and flickering her tail once every few steps. Grell wanted to get there fast enough to see her and perhaps surprise her. He took few side streets but remained on the main road, none took notice of him except when they stepped out of the way for him to pass by.

Trips were faster when he went by the rooftops but he feared that a coworker would spot him or attack him out of a mistaken identity of being a demon. His crop snapped at his new horse's shoulder to encourage him to maintain his gait. It went on for a quarter of an hour until he made it to the walls of the Royal London Hospital.

Whitechapel was crowded for the day, especially in the late morning, but Grell waved his horse through the crowd in order to reach the grand, iron gates that were the entrance to the premises.

A stableman stood out and offered his hand out while a guard clothed in the typical English attire asked,"What is your business here?"

Grell dismounted and reached for the letters in the saddlebag of his horse. He allowed the other man, dressed in dingy clothes, to take his horse while showing the letters addressed to Angelina. "I'm Doctor Durless's butler, Grell Sutcliff, and I need to deliver these to her."

The guard looked over the letters and gave them back, replying,"Well, Mr. Sutcliff, you're allowed to go in." He motioned for the doors of the hospital. "Sorry for troubling you, ever since Jack the Ripper has been wrecking havoc around the area, security must be upheld for the safety of our patients. The sick bastard may come here for free sport, you know?"

Grell gave a pleasant smile. "Ah, yes, safety indeed. Thank you."

"Have a good day."

-...-

Angelina went through the last of the documents and wrote down four other women onto her list to ensure that she would have future killings; she included addresses and even a photograph for references though she could have had Grell identify the whore for her. She wasn't scheduled for much today and none were coming in to give her anything to work on.

As a doctor, she may as well just leave early, maybe even visit Ciel .

_Oh, but I promised Grell I'd take him shopping._

She sighed. She reached for the phone at her desk and began to dial the number for her home but then the door was rattled by a series of knocks.

"Come." She placed the phone back into the holder and was surprised at seeing Grell open the door. The feeling of him wanting to follow her everywhere had irked her. "Why are you here?" She tried to sound surprised instead of irritated.

He went in, happy and relieved for some reason, and placed the letters on her desk. "The mailman forgot to bring these on time for I dealt a hand on the idiot."

Angelina reached for all of them but eyed the highly decorated envelope. She held it up and the man produced a knife to slit the fold open. She was given the contents and began to read it over. "It's an invitation to the Viscount of Druitt's party, end of the season specifically, and he entreats me to bring anyone so long as they are a girl or woman. How perverse of him."

"Would you want to go?" Grell asked, curious.

"What? Regarding his reputation, I would rather not. Then again, my nephew may make him to be a suspect so I have no doubts that I would have to go anyway," she bitterly said,"I'd go to any gala but his."

Grell nodded but she noticed he looked a bit dismayed. "Well, I shall start my leave..."

Angelina got up. "Good."

"You want me to leave?" She nodded. "That's quite rude, considering I'm a guest of yours. I shouldn't have have to spend my time running errands for you at all. Again, quite rude-"

"Then what do you want me to say?" She spluttered. "I can't tell whether you're acting or not but when you disregard compliments or say you're unworthy of having such, it's rather confusing!"

Grell stared at her, head tilting a bit to the side, before understanding what she meant. It was about what he said last night, he had no idea that being so modest could offset her. "Then I apologize for what I've said, I merely don't want to be a god revered, I just want to be noticed as any other person in your life and, if it isn't too much, to be loved without regret. Thus, I tell you to never hesitate."

Angelina bit at her lip. _He's a strange man..._

But he strode to her, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. "If you will excuse me, you have a job to do and I have my own to attend to. I shall see you this afternoon when you call."

She calmed herself, her shoulders dropping from being so tense as he went to the door. "No, Grell...wait. I can get off work now since I have no one else to check on and nothing to go further in my research at the moment. I was getting ready to leave at the moment. Did you come by cab or-"

"I came by horse, dear."

"Then ride home, Grell, I need to finish up what I can here anyway."

-...-

When her carriage arrived at home, he was waiting at the steps in his bland outfit. She wore her the dress meant for work and decided to change into something more suited for going on an outing. He checked his pocket watch for the tenth time before she came from the door, presenting herself to him. Her dress, red of course, was the typical one she had used before and was one that she favored to wear; secretly, it was his favorite when seen on her.

With a fresh set of horses and a carriage waiting a few steps from the front, he offered her his hand and she took it. He lead her to the step and aided her inside before closing the door.

The coachman was sitting at the driver's seat, Grell stepped up and gave him a calculating look, saying,"Good man, let me."

There was no protest, the driver left Grell to the reins. His gloves took a hold of the leather and he snapped them. "Walk on."

Slowly, the wheels turned and the horses bobbed their heads, snorting and grunting at the command. From the corner of his eye, as he passed by the front of the Barnett manor, he saw the servants watching from the windows. They were watching as if they were in mourning, and he took a note of them rather than the weather that was slowly brewing above the city.

-...-

They were at the shoe store in the finest district. Grell was watching his Madam try on the latest heels that the store had recently gained in stock. She was busying herself too much, smiling when she found a pair that suited her and then frowning when she found a pair that lacked in her taste.

He personally chose them all, he was simply letting her take the ones she wanted the most. It was fun seeing her and the assistant gossip in which she should take.

"This one?"

"Too drab."

"The heel for this one looks comfortable, mum."

"Yes, but he feels dreadful."

"Oh, how about this?"

"Perfect, these look fine. Grell? Are these fine?"

Grell's eyes snapped up from a random heel he had taken from the shelf. He held the delicate footwear while answering pleasantly,"That looks marvelous, Madam."

As they went on for an hour, shouts rose from outside. While the women in the shop were oblivious, Grell took it upon himself to look out. He saw men and women, the nobles, gathering up in carriages and leaving the area as quickly as they could. He wondered why they had began to flee from the shops, he approached the window to see that it had began to pour so suddenly. It was as though the sound of the water came after the sight.

Such a weather would literally dampen their day. He decided to give a warning,"Milady, may I suggest that we may leave?"

Angelina was trying on her twelfth heel. She looked at him, curious as to why he would spoil her time. Ironically, she was enjoying this more than he was.

"Why?" Her eyebrow popped up.

"There is a storm, apparently, and I say that we must go if you want to arrive safely at home."

A loud cry and then a few thuds came from the outside. They turned their attention to the window to see the Barnett carriage being stolen by a few hoodlums that had taken the chaos to their advantage. Grell, seeing this, immediately dropped the heel and ran out, sprinting for the carriage, but the perpetrators had sped off into the blinding rain, taking their horses and other assortments that were inside. Grell saw the young lad whom he had paid to watch the horses. The young man, looking beaten, was taken by the scruff of the neck and held up.

Grell felt himself being soaked to the bone but he shouted,"I paid for you to watch our carriage, you idiot, now why did you let them take it? !"

"I'm sorry, sir! Really! I...they just came at me and-" Grell threw him to the street and stormed back into the shop. Angelina was aware of what had happened but he broke the news to her anyway.

"We no longer have a way home, milady."

Angelina told the assistant to leave them to themselves. She lowered her voice, whispering,"You're a Shinigami, a god. A little rain won't stop us-"

"My eyes are meant for seeing the lives of the dead, not through a thick haze or fog or water, anything." He took off his coat and allowed it to hang at the coat rack. He removed his glasses and dried them. "Now, if we would be lucky, we could ask for these kind shopkeepers to let us board here."

"Yes, but my money was in the carriage..."

Grell rubbed his eyes before slipping his glasses on in frustration. He exhaled,"Wait here." He ventured out to the back room where the assistant was sitting at, going through records. "Excuse me?"

"Yes?" She looked up at him.

"Would you be so generous and let us stay here for the night?"

"No."

"For the time until the rain lets up to let us leave?"

"I'm sorry, but our rooming is meant for my family and I. While we sell shoes from distant parts, we also manufacture a few here. The heels are mostly made upstairs and the family reside even higher up." She paused, thoughtful and careful in her words. "To say, if I would let you stay, I can let you stay for a price. I know of Madam Red, and I have a good idea as to how much she is worth."

She looked passed Grell, glancing over at the lady, before looked back at him. He saw her idea and asked,"How much?"

"Servants like you and I should know what we want," she said shrewdly, it was a starkly different attitude she presented to Angelina.

"Our carriage was stolen...money is not at hand at the moment-"

She gave a shrug. "Then no room for you or the woman."

He dug into his pockets and took out a pouch. He opened it and presented its contents to her, she snorted,"You have better luck at the inn in the poorer district with that money than here. Now get out if you can't give me what I want!"

Grell bore his teeth to her. "Such insolence!"

She snapped at him. "Shut up, you're just a butler! What do you know any better? !"

"Oh, you little bitch-"

"Grell..." They saw Angelina at the door. Her eyes glared at the assistant but she calmly said with venom to her voice,"Leave her be and let's just leave."

Grell's mouth opened in protest but Angelina said much more firmly,"Now."

He growled and whirled about, grabbing Angelina's wrist and then taking her to the door. He took the coat off the rack and draped it over her before swinging the door open and strode into the beating rain. They left the door ajar as they took a left towards the direction of home, but, just as the assistant predicted, they had a luck at winding up at an inn.

At this point, Grell was soaked to a point of where he had a slight difficulty in walking with his clothes. Angelina, covered by the coat, had no idea where they had ended up but all she knew was the pain that had surfaced from her wrist as he tightly grasped her.

She gasped out,"Grell!"

They were climbing up the stone stairs.

"Grell!" Her voice became louder.

He was opening a door.

"Grell!"

They were entering a quaint inn.

She shouted, breaking the warming atmosphere of the small lobby that they had ended up in,_"Grell!"_

"What, woman! ?" He shouted back, she struggled to remove the coat but his hand went to her shoulder to keep her from removing the coat. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pouch of money. "Just shut up!"

At the front desk was an old man, he was hard of hearing, for he yelled,"What do you want, sir?"

"I want a-"

"What?"

Grell dangerously bellowed,"I WANT A ROOM, KEEP THE DAMN CHANGE AND FETCH US A PAIR OF NIGHTGOWNS TO SLEEP IN!"

"WILL DO, MAN!" The man shouted back at him, giving them Grell a key and quickly telling the room's location. "THIRD FLOOR, HIGHEST. TO THE LEFT!"

He gave no thank you and dragged Angelina, once more, up the stairs. Several times she tripped and several times she fought against him, she tried to remove the coat over her head but eventually, being fed up, Grell decided to sling her over his shoulder.

Angelina kicked at him but he went on and, after getting a few hits to the chest, managed to arrive at the room's door. He jammed the key into the hole and forced the door open. Once the door opened up, he entered the room and placed Angelina down to her feet, though doing so gently. He closed the door and locked it, then turned around, lifting the coat off of her head and saying, gently,"Alright, now you can relax-"

But he was met with a slap to his face. It stung horribly but the glare she gave with her eyes were far more painful. He understood she had the right to be angry but he grabbed her shoulders and, heatedly, said,"I only did this because the man would have charged us more than what I had to give. We were rejected a room with the cobbler because of your status. Should the old wanker downstairs have known who you were under the black, we would be stuck wandering the street once again. Would you have that? Would you, hm?"

Her eyes glazed at his words."You could have given an explanation-"

"No, I couldn't. Why? Because we ended up wandering through the slums, it took me a while to find a decent inn and here we are. Disguising you as a makeshift prostitute would have granted us a clear ticket in here. Now, the method is horrible and unethical to our beliefs but please, Angelina, darling," he said tiredly,"just be grateful I could do this much for you."

"Well, Grell, a woman doesn't enjoy being treated as a hostage, let alone being told she is a whore!"

This time, it was his turn to slap her. "My explanation is enough for you, can't you just not fight it?"

His open palm went to her cheek and she rubbed the spot that had become sore over the passing seconds.

"You're horrible-"

_Slap!_

"So you reject compliments but you reject criticism as well? Goodness, Grell-"

He caught on to her words once more. It was the morning all over again, he pleaded,"Let go of what I said!"

She did not relent. "Then do not be my butler! It's a facade, not a real job!"

The chainsaw came to hand and, at the instant she had seen the machine, she had suddenly remembered exactly who she was speaking- no, who she was yelling at. He was a god. He had the strength that was impossible to compare to animals. He had the temper that placed hers to shame. Everything about him placed her to shame. He was much more lethal than her, much more dangerous.

He was Death and he had the power to do whatever he pleased.

When he held the chainsaw, she dropped to her knees and begged at his feet to not end her. She uttered, weakly,"Please-"

"Please..._what_?" He replied darkly. The voice sent shivers up her spine. It was voice he used to taunt the whores.

"Let me live."

He dropped to her level, the chainsaw casually held at his hip. He was on one knee, his other hand took her cheek and he hissed,"Acting is what I do, and it was what I have been doing even before I was recreated for this, so please, as a way to escape my eternal Hell of being a worker, do not tell me what I have done wrong. I want to enjoy my life-"

And then he saw tears, he stopped, remembering as well who he was talking to. He was threatening the woman who had brought light into his world. The one whom he had grown feelings for. The tears made him forget why they were quarreling, he found the fight to be pointless.

_What was I trying to prove?_

He sent away his death scythe and, out of his realization, embraced her. Though he was still wet, he held her close to him, trying to sort out the thoughts that swam in his mind. "What was I trying to prove to you?" He murmured before releasing her.

-...-

They were silent.

An old woman dropped by and gave them a pair of white clothes to sleep in. Grell had stripped down to only his undergarments but graciously took the clothes, immediately going to the bathroom and putting on his new clothes. Angelina sat outside on the amazingly soft mattress, she tried to distract herself from the events from earlier.

The room was about a quarter of the size of her bedroom at home. The bed was twin sized and had white linen with two pillows. For the decor of the room, there was nothing save for the stove in the far corner, across from the lavatory, that acted as a heater. Besides that, there was not even a wardrobe but only a desk and a chair. Overhead, away from the bed, was a clothes line; Grell hung his clothes there with pins found on the windowsill.

The erratic beating of the rain to the roof above was rhythmic and gave the room sound. She decided that she, too, would dry herself. She got up and undone her dress. Her clothes were mostly dry, she was thankful Grell had covered most of her, but her shoes and lower parts of her dress were watered more than the average tree would want.

She slid out of her dress and hung it next to Grell's red and white bow tie. She then took her time to remove her stockings and garter, followed by her uncooperative corset. Her hands took a while to undo the ties but she managed, she even hung that, along with her blouse and underskirt.

She even removed her the straps that held the sheath and her blade, her tool of killing and her gift from Grell. She dropped it on the bed carelessly, tired of the weight.

She frowned a bit at the thought of being bare in the room and having a man that could come out at any moment. She paused, waiting to hear him open his door, but shrugged to herself. Naked, she reached for the plain dress on the bed and slipped it on, but process of doing so was obscured by a pair of hands that were at her waist. Her dress bundled up there and her blood grew cold with fright.

The knife was under a sheet but she knew that whoever was behind her never had the chance to catch the sight of it.

Warm lips met her neck and a bare torso pressed against her back. A wet tongue rose up the crook of her neck and ended at the base of her ear. She heard Grell whisper,"I'm sorry for what I've said, what I did, what I could have done to you. At this moment, my fair lady, I want you, me, us, I want us to forget what had transpired."

She was at unease. The man threatened her with a chainsaw for God's sake!

"Grell, I-"

"Shush, I promise I won't do you any harm. Let me make everything up to you." He planted a small kiss on the shell of her ear and murmured something that was inaudible. "Forget it all, Angelina."

She didn't dare ask what was said. Perhaps, this night, she could let it all slip away. Grell was here and he was her reality now. He was Death and she was accepting his, ironically, warm embrace. His demeanor was difficult trace, for it was unpredictable. It was impossible to foresee who he could be, what he could do, but she knew all to well what he was capable of.

His hands snaked from her waist to graze his fingers over her supple fresh. One hand want to her chest, the other went down south to her womanhood. His mouth latched to her neck once more and, eventually, the coldness of her body ebbed away into nothing and now, feeling safe, heat coursed through her.

She gasped,"Forget..."

His suddenly sharp teeth grazed her skin, she shuddered and accidentally allowed it to puncture her hard enough to draw a speck of blood. The sting was surprisingly pleasurable but he began to lap up the small droplets while murmuring,"Forgive me."

"I do." His scent, wet and yet having that lingering, wholesome cologne, intoxicated her, sending her mind into a haze. As if reading her through the sound of her breathing, he began to undress her. "Make me forget it all."

The white dress went over her head and was discarded somewhere, he murmured,"I'll chase away your fears, your hatred, your pain, tonight and thereafter if you demand it so."

His words, just as influential as his air, made her grow weak. The light caresses to her bodice, the touch itself, had brought her to her knees. She wanted to cry in joy at the feeling of being offered the comfort she needed after these past few years. She needed someone, someone that would never die, would never leave her, would never hate her.

"Give me love as well, Grell, I need that more than anything," she whimpered as he turned her around, hands at her back, his weight coaxing her to move back and onto the mattress. The softness cushioned her and his mass felt as though he were protecting her. She saw him, from the faint light of the candle, that he was bare chested, glorious and, if she daresay, devilish under the red glow of the flickering flame.

A hand tipped her chin towards his lips and he gave a chaste kiss. He lingered there, momentarily, uttering,"You've had my love, you have it still."

She swore she could hear her heart shatter and then rebuild itself within a matter of seconds, the words he said were like red wine. "Oh, Grell."

Angelina loved wine, red wine in particular. The man above her was the source of the precious droplets of that foreboding crimson liquid, she wanted more than a taste, she wanted everything. She needed everything. Her left hand reached a foot away from her, she could feel the golden handle's cold handle under the whiteness.

His averted to where her hand was but he was unfazed.

"What can kill you? The truth, if you will." Her thumb pushed away the scabbard and her hand retracted, the knife sliding quietly out of its velvet tunnel.

Grell's brows furrowed at the question. "A death scythe."

"Then the knife you gave me...is it a death scythe? Will it hurt you?"

"Darling, it is a death scythe, I can die from whatever it is your planning to do."

She looked crestfallen, she confessed,"I wanted to drink red wine."

The redheaded man stared at her, slightly perplexed with heavy eyes, then he realized what she wanted. "My Lady, you must save that for another night but, at the moment, I can give you what you crave for so much." Her hand pushed the knife back into the sheath at his words, his eyes, which were so close to her, mesmerized her into consenting to whatever he could give for the night.

"Give it all to me, Grell," she distantly gasped when his seemingly cold hand went to her waist,"everything. All you have."

He kissed her cheek. "Angelina, all I have is love."

* * *

A/N: Well..smut will come next chapter, I swear, ha ha.**  
**

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	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji

UPDATE 11/19/12: CHANGED TITLE AND DESCRIPTION.

* * *

His free hand immediately went to the knife and tossed it to the floor. He would rather not have a soul or himself reaped by accident when they partake in such an intimate activity. She took notice of this but did not stop him, knowing that it would pose a danger.

She bit her lip in anticipation and he grinned at her behind those round rimmed glasses. His disguise was still there but she knew how to change that. Her hand went to his head and weaved her fingers into his rich, brunette locks; she ran her hand through his hair and, as if by magic, it transitioned from the dull brown into the blazing red that seemed to reflect itself by candlelight.

"You certainly prefer that, don't you?" He murmured, eyes drifting closed.

"It certainly suits you, Grell, much better than your other appearance. Only because I know who you are."

And then she removed his glasses, taking off his chain first, so that they wouldn't get damaged. They were set on the nightstand nearby. That sharp grin shown itself more prominently, for his teeth changed shape. At that, she smiled and yet fear was slightly building up with apprehension.

"Hm," he hummed quietly and he leaned in to steal a kiss.

But she did the unexpected and returned it with something that instantly lit a flame between them.

Her hand went to his length.

His eyes flew open. He was glad to opt not wearing anything went stepping out of the lavatory.

Hearts thudded in chests. The carnal desire for one another debunked their emotional needs and, upon realizing this, they knew that there can be more to this relationship than just words; it needed to be justified soon. His lips met hers, evoking a passion was laying dormant between the both of them. He groaned an approval when her hand wrapped around him; she sighed into their kiss when his hand went to her breast for a light squeeze.

Tongues clashed against one another, a rush of heat coursed through Angelina as she felt his knee press against the apex of her legs. Her breath hitched and he tore away his lips from hers to run his tongue to her neck. He grazed her jugular with his teeth, teasing her, threatening to tear her throat open, but he only nipped; it was still enough to pierce her skin and she hissed.

"Sorry," Grell uttered, but he felt another hand, one that wasn't slowly stroking him, press his head towards her skin; she was encouraging him to bite. He knew better and didn't, instead, he only sucked upon her porcelain skin to compensate for not digging his teeth into her.

It was satisfying enough for her but she disregarded his mouth when he rolled his knee towards her center more harder; the pressure was teasing her, she wanted more than just something pressing against her. She knew he wanted something more than her touching him with gentle strokes, while it brought him to full arousal the thought of his size excited her.

Her whisper came out,"Don't tease me."

He knew better than to disregard her statement, he could already feel how wet she was. He was drawing more of that liquid out as he continued to tease her. She was moving hips against him, going in a makeshift rhythm that was so broken, he knew she was going to beg for him sooner or later.

He shifted in his position, settling himself between her legs.

"Humans are always impatient," Grell breathed hotly against her neck. He felt her hand guide him to her entrance and he brought his hips closer to hers, just close enough to enter her. Much to his surprise, once he had slowly went in, her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him towards her, forcing him inside her rather quickly. The sudden sensation of being one caused both to moan, Grell pressed his head against the pillow as he brought his hands to both sides of her to gain balance.

"Grell!" She cried out, but her scream was muffled by the sound of thunder outside.

He understood that she didn't feel the need to take anything slowly; he was glad, he was equally impatient as her. Being so suddenly deep within her, he let out a loud groan of satisfaction.

Her hips rose higher, he ground his own against her, producing the most wonderful wave of pleasure to course through him. He began to move and she loosened her legs just a bit for him to have enough space to pull out just slightly. The friction was there, her arms went around his shoulders and her nails wracked through his back. The pain from her digging into his skin increased, and he hissed as he quickly established a rhythm of deep and purposeful thrusts.

He braced himself over her.

She continued that act with her nails, as retaliation he bit at her neck just enough, once more, to draw blood.

Angelina whined but he gave her a particularly harder thrust into her to occupy her mind.

She had never felt so alive, it had been a while and, at his mercy, she felt so invigorated. She now has his love, his acceptance of her, his promise of never departing her, that was what she truly needed. The fear of being alone had abated, she knew she found someone to rely upon, to know that she would be caught if she were to fall. The years of being lost, being denied of such a needed asset to her life, had driven her to insanity.

While he may not be able to produce a child with her, his entire being was all that she could ever want; she lived through some troubled times and now, as if God were to give her a reward for her troubles, she can finally have some compensation. She needed him in her life.

His shaft dragged over a sensitive spot when she slightly angled her hips. She let out a high moan, telling him to grind against her repeatedly in that particular way. She was almost getting to that pique, so close. She knew he was as well, for his thrusts were rapidly becoming erratic; his groans getting deeper, his teeth threatening to go further than just skin deep within her neck.

The room had become heavy with heat and their mingling scent. The bed creaked over their combined movements. The rain and thunder, while pounding against the roof and roaring outside, muffled it all but it was only between the two that they could hear their sounds of pleasure.

Grell could barely keep his thoughts collected, his eyes were closed, concentrating on sending her over the edge first; after all, he wanted to let her feel the rush first out of his own desire to see her in ecstasy. She was tightening around him with each passing second, her nails had suddenly stopped and now she was gripping him for dear life.

Oh, she was getting there.

His sucked away at the newly made wound upon her neck, the blood trickling onto his tongue. He lapped it hastily and then his mouth was torn away when her face had burrowed into his shoulder, her legs had wrapped around his hips like a vice.

"Grell," she finally breathed for what felt like an eternity. "Oh, Grell, please!"

She rocked along with him. It went on for quite a long period of time, her moans forcing her to gasp for air. As though she felt something snap within her, she reached her limit and, much to Grell's surprise, she fell silent with her breath getting caught up in her throat; however, the sound she would make was the last thing on his mind now, for that intimate part within her had suddenly clenched around him so deliciously.

He felt that rush overcome him as well, and she felt the effects within herself when a burst of warmth came coursing inside. She convulsed around his length, she had grown rigid in a euphoric phase that left her in a high that she had never encountered before.

They reached that crest for a few glorious moments before slowly, and reluctantly, coming down from it. Her grip upon him loosened considerably as he collapsed over her but minded to not crush her under his weight. His head rested upon her chest after slowly withdrawing from her and laying a bit lower upon her body; his ear was pressed against her chest, her heart was still racing but was slowly becoming steady.

The drops of rain was heard once more, their breaths being the only thing that they could communicate with. Her hand went to his hair and stroked his rich, red locks affectionately. Her tongue went to moisten her lips and, after a moment of silence, she spoke out his name quietly but he was too spent to reply. In the harsh noise of the pounding rain, they drifted to sleep at its symphonic beats.

Exhaustion coaxed them into a deep slumber, they were finally content to sleep in peace with one another.

-...-

The morning saw them upon the lengthy journey home. He had stolen a horse from a local tavern in the early hours, disguised of course, and brought the newly acquired animal to his lady's presence in the alley. He led the horse to her and aided her up into the saddle, letting her side side-saddle in a womanly way, before mounting the horse and positioning himself behind her.

It was old but had a slight liveliness to its steps, it was something nice to have so early.

His arms wrapped around her side to keep her secure as he clucked gently. The old horse whined and walked them out of the alley and quickly strode down the still-sleeping district of the poor.

Her head rested upon his shoulder, she was still tired from the night before but he had hastily awoken her before daybreak so that they may leave without trouble from the innkeeper nor other residents. She sighed and he supported her.

The morning fog did little to cover the clicks and clacks of the hooves as they went down every street. The trip home would have been faster but, shamefully, Grell had to admit he too was slightly fatigued and had no intention to remain on the alert for other Shinigami should they be traveling by the rooftops. He looked up, curious if there were any of his own kind traversing so early; it was the slums and more people died here than anywhere else in the city.

Much to his surprise, he heard the sound of tapping from a distance upon roof shingles. He stopped his horse, wanting to concentrate on the tapping, they were nearing him. He made his horse walk once more and he kept his eyes trained towards the sky but kept his head at level with the street.

A black blur sped over above the street, it was quick but his trained eyes knew what it was. He caught the tint of green and silver, it was a Shinigami making his rounds. His hair stood on end upon his skin when, so quickly, he watched the Shinigami leap down into an alley across from his side of the street.

He wished he didn't give his coat to cover Angelina, for he needed it; his uniform as a butler was similar to that of being a Dispatcher. His whole self was exposed. He bit his tongue and, out of panic, he kicked the flanks of his animal. The dead quiet street became full with the noises of his horse speeding and his woman waking up in alarm.

"Grell, what're you-"

"Quiet, we're being followed," he hissed, he couldn't confirm it to himself but he knew all to well the techniques of pursuing prey. He'd be damned if he were caught, especially with a human and, at best, being in the cohorts with her as Jack the Ripper. He knew that the Dispatchers have an idea on who the human half of the serial killer was but, should they find him with her to know he was the inhuman half, he would be subjected to a world of Hell.

He tightened the reins and kicked on, making sure that he had to gain enough ground from whoever was coming after them. Turn after turn, passed every sign and store, he brought his lady further through the city and, eventually to the outskirts. Unfortunately, the old horse was beginning to show its age; its nostrils flared and it grunted quite heavily as it tried to keep up with Grell's demands.

Out of a daring thought, he looked back and saw that his fears were now reality; he was being chased.

The black was showing itself in the fog, it was trained on its target, he saw it weave through many obstacles behind him. He knew why it was taking to the ground, the rooftops were becoming less and they were now entering the country where vast fields were open to them.

A mile away was a graveyard, at least that was what the milestone said.

He was drawn to go into it. He felt Angelina's hands gripping his forearm. She exclaimed,"You can't just go there, whoever is after us will get us!"

He ignored her as he breezed by the gates within a few minutes. "I know a shortcut!"

"That's what all men say!"

"You don't understand this!" He snapped. And then he heard a familiar laughter call out to him and a lantern a few feet away in the thick fog.

The horse began to canter, as it can no longer gallop, Grell knew it was at its limit. Their weight combined was enough to stress it. He eventually brought the horse to a stop in front of a cloaked figure that, to both of their horror and need, went by the name of Undertaker. The man was in the process of burying a body that morning and, having heard the commotion, had caught Grell's attention.

"What seems to be the problem?" Undertaker asked after digging his shovel to the ground and leaning against it, interested as to why they were hurrying so early in the morning. "Something's chasing you-?"

Grell dismounted and grabbed the undertaker by the collar rather aggressively and urgently. "Don't speak out the obvious! We need to be hidden and, should our pursuer approach, I beg of you to cover for us," he asked in earnest.

Undertaker stared at him, smile donning his face. Grell was disgusted by that. "Who might be the person chasing you?"

"We know not," Angelina replied,"but I would repay you by whatever means you need. Laughter is what you like-"

"We don't have time!" Grell's voice shook. If they could have seen him, Undertaker had lifted an eyebrow at Grell. The silver haired man shook his head and pointed at his wagon, it was situated near the grave with several coffins within it. He gave a half smile and a half disapproving frown. Immediately Grell knew the signal. He helped his lady off of the horse and then carried her into the wagon.

Undertaker quickly went over to them and draped a covering cloth over the wagon to conceal the contents. Angelina laid upon her back, squeezed between the flooring, the side, a coffin, and Grell above her; she looked at him apprehensively. She had never seen that look of panic across his face before. She swore she could feel heartbeat when he held his arm. He support himself above her but leaned against a coffin.

Under the white sheet, they both heard voices suddenly come into play.

"Morning to you, good sir," Undertaker's cheery voice greeted pleasantly. Grell looked at the side of the wagon and found a few cracks between the boards.

He peeked through and saw that the person pursuing them was, indeed, a Shinigami. To make matters more intense, he found that person to be none other than William T. Spears. It had been two years since he had seen him as he had taken leave so suddenly. His eyes widened and his breathing stopped.

"Good morning," replied William, it was rather cold. He adjusted his glasses. "I was wondering if you have seen two people that were riding upon this horse." He indicated towards the exhausted horse that Grell and Angelina had taken off on. "They are people of interest to me and I must seek them."

Undertaker shrugged,"Well, I'll tell you something. One is a person and another is a corpse, nothing to be suspicious of. Hm, however..." A pale hand went to stroke his cheek. "...it would be something of suspicion. For an explanation, it was my assistant; I asked of him to fetch the body of a woman from my shop as I had forgotten to load her. Go ahead, have a look-see in the grave, I just put her in the coffin. Open the lid if you like but I would like to say she is rather ghastly looking; a fire burned through her face."

William nodded. "...I suppose I would rather not, but I may ask, what of your assistant?"

"Left the minute he dropped the body in. He went off to find a grave marker so that I may remember where to place a tombstone. Nice lad, pure shame you can't see where he went. The fog is rather thick...can't even see my own horses from this distance, the wagon's there too."

William fixed his glasses once more upon his face. He seemed to be doubting Undertaker but, after a few moments, he accepted it. "Then I must be off now."

"Might I ask, sir, who were you seeking?" Undertaker inquired.

Immediately he answered,"Jack the Ripper of course, just like everyone."

"Bounty or Queen's lapdog?"

"Personal matters," William said slowly, glancing at the wagon; he turned and walked, disappearing into the fog. Undertaker quietly watched and, when he was assured that William had gone away after a few heart stopping moments, he uncovered the wagon. Grell was stiff as a board.

_He knew it was me, he just knew. Jack the Ripper, he meant me. He wasn't telling Undertaker, he was telling me he knew._

"Up and out you go, you two," Undertaker rang his voice to them. Grell tried to compose himself and got out, then he aided Angelina. Her coat revealed her to Undertaker, he smiled. "Ah, now I recognize you, Madam Red." He snickered. "Afraid it was Earl Phantomhive?"

"What?" She asked. Grell caught that too.

"No, nothing, though I will give a warning about that boy that is your nephew," Undertaker began as he walked over to their horse. He gathered up the reins and led it to them. "Phantomhives are notorious for going after anyone, even the persecution of family members is quite common through the bloodline."

She timidly spoke,"I'm rather aware, young Ciel made me a suspect to his list but I'm pretty sure he is simply overlooking things."

"Even I myself have been put on lists many times but I have nothing to fear, I'm their informant after all. I say, perhaps being more careful should be your best bet to go through. You're quite lucky to have only that man, and not the boy, chasing you this dark day. No payments for this, if it were Phantomhive instead of the man I would have charged you, I do work in many ways-"

"You'd jeopardize others for laughs, how unsightly," Grell uttered as Angelina was placed upon her spot in the saddle. He reached out to him and offered to shake hands, Undertaker took it. "Besides that, you have my thanks."

"Hm, don't be asking for another favor. I have a soft spot for those willing to protect their loved ones," he admitted. He smiled warmly as Grell mounted the horse. "If you want direction to Madam's home, the aristocratic district can be made within minutes if you follow the posts down the way there. Quite a shortcut through this site..."

-...-

They finally arrived home after an hour or so. The fog had lifted and they could now see where they were.

The servants, worried, were at the front steps to see them. Grell got off, then Angelina was helped down. Almost immediately she was whisked away by her maids. Grel himself simply took himself to his private den and began to strip off his clothes in replacement for new slacks, dress shirt, and vest. He decided to not wear the bow around his neck as he felt it was constricting him.

His anxiety for the morning had risen. It brought a new awareness to him.

Shinigami were not meant to mingle with humans. For the most part, humans die. For the rest, empathy towards them would interfere with their duties. Obviously, Grell knows, Angelina has been interfering with his line of work but he could care less. Sure, her existence was manipulating deaths, he may as well be considered as a rouge Shinigami. He vowed to himself that he would prevent her from death but, with each passing day, she was growing closer to inevitable end.

He looked at himself in the mirror as he fixed his buttons.

To live the life, and lie, of a human butler for the sake of love for Angelina was favorable to him. Her love and passion, just recently realized and accepted, were as equal as his. He had grown soft for her. But then reality hit him, the thoughts and fears of this morning came into play.

He and his lady could run away and begin a new life. However, age would consumer her, leaving her brittle and unable to live on; he simply didn't have that power to give her eternal youth. Immortality is possible for her but time would takes its toll, she would suffer the effects, he would have to end some day. And if they were to live on their own, they would be pursued by Shinigami everywhere, wanting for Grell to pay for his crimes as Jack the Ripper and going through the process of being a Deserter.

There was simply no way for Angelina to live, he had to accept it. In a fit of rage he pounded his fist to the glass mirror, it shattered with shards falling to the ground. He found his hand to be bleeding from slicing his knuckles. He hissed in pain but, with a resolution, he stormed out of his room.

-...-

Angelina was hastily bathed. Her maid had dried her hair and had finished getting her new dress set for her for the day. She was in a pair of red robes, they were warming her up quite nicely.

"May I ask where you and Mr. Sutcliff were?" Her maid asked.

"Nowhere, we got a little lost," she said without leaving room for question. The maid simply nodded.

A few moments passed as the water was being drained. The maid was getting a corset out, she stated,"You look worried, Madam."

"I'm simply contemplating."

And she was.

Ironically, she was thinking about this too. She loved Grell. They would possibly run away but her thoughts on Ciel anchored her to her place. While the boy is dangerous to her, she thought of Grell's well-being. If they were to continue life together, both him and herself would not only face Ciel's looming threat but also that of the other Shinigamis in pursuit of him.

In a way, they are both in danger. She bit her lip. Love would always come at a price. If she were to live, Grell would have to fend off his fellow kind or evade them for the rest of their time; if he were to let her live, she would have to deal with Ciel. It was a common fact for them both that Ciel was on their trail, the fact Undertaker would provide clues, in a cryptic way, was enough for the dog to catch their scent.

_He's a smart child, just like his father..._

The thought of Vincent, the unrequited feelings towards him, were only forgotten because of Grell. Her life with him now had torn away her grief and replaced it something wonderful. The previous Phantomhive had taken something precious before, it was her silenced love, but now the new one now threatens to tear her away from her most current one.

_...however, I'm not losing another one again._

Her resolution was to kill the boy and let Grell handle the rest from there.

"Madam?" The concerned maid tried to speak but the doors flung open. In came Grell, hand bleeding and a scowl upon his face.

"Out!" He demanded, the younger woman fled, dropping the corset to the ground. Angelina stood up from her seat before the bath. She had an inkling as to why he was there. Two minds think alike when they are so interwoven like theirs. He was within close range in an instant. "I have to kill you, end this now while we still can-"

"What? Grell, no!" She nearly shouted, her train of thought derailing at his suggestion. "What sort of...no, I want to live! I want to live with you!"

Grell's face contorted. "Angelina, love, if you live you will prove nothing but being a human; you'll age and suffer the effects."

"Then turn me into your kind-"

"That's not how it works! You can't do that!" He shook his head. "Listen, listen to me. The boy Ciel, he will come after you. At the same time, I will be persecuted, William from this morning proved it quite well as to how close they can get to me. Even if you do kill him, I would have an entire _society_ coming after me. Would you want to live a life on the run?"

She retorted,"It's quite better than never having one-"

"It's irrational and would take years, maybe centuries, for them to forget my face and by then you would become frail and suffering quite more than you do now."

"So you can't grant me youth then?" She inquired. His bloodied hand went to her cheek, staining it; it was bleeding and leaking upon her robe, tainting that as well.

"Dear, I'm a god of death, not life, I forward it, not turn it back. If I could have the power to edit lives in my way, we would be living different lives," he said softly, his features matched his voice. He grew quiet and now both his hands were holding her head gently. His kissed her forehead. "Fate's cruel to us, I know, but there's nothing to stop it."

"Then...what if we just try. No harm in trying to defy destiny," she began.

"What is your proposal, Angelina?"

She closed her eyes. "If I can kill my nephew-"

"But you love the boy-" Her finger went to his lips, she felt her heart wretch at the thought of killing off the reminder of her past.

"No, now you listen...if I can kill my nephew then we will live together, we can try at living on our own; our lives would be difficult but it will be worth living, at least for me. Being fugitives to your kind then so be it, I know you love me as much." She heard him choke down a cry, they were both in denying of this situation. "But if I fail to kill him then you can kill me."

He looked at her in disbelief. "What is the change of heart towards the boy?"

"He'll take me away from you, in turn, I will lose my right to life and love; it's what I have left and I prefer to have them than nothing. Grell...if I..." She struggled to say the word, it was like poison. "...if I die, what will happen to you?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll be fine on my own." He flatly lied. If he were to conduct a mercy killing, that is to reap before the actual time of death, then he would be charged heavily by the Administration. He would rather live up to her expectations, out of love and out of a request prior to death. Consequences, to this degree, from his crimes so far won't give him the death penalty, only time to be his punishment but he had plenty of it to waste.

He took his bloodied hand to her chin and tipped it up to bring her lips to his to press lightly against each other. They parted but his thumb ran across her moistened lips, causing blood to be smeared across her bottom lip. Her tongue came out to lick his red wine, she smiled at him when she opened her eyes.

"How much longer do I have?" She whispered.

"Before winter, after the season when nobles begin to return to the country," he answered nearly inaudibly.

"I suppose I should live the best I can."

-...-

That night he went to the manor's library. He left Angelina to play the piano, he enjoys hearing her play every so often. When he had began to work with her, she played only solemn tunes but now, now with their love had been recognized, she had changed her genre completely. He loved the song, it reminded him so much of happier times.

His heart wretched and he sighed, he would have to commit treason at its most highest level. His calling as a playwright beckoned to fix this tragedy from being predictable to becoming utterly unseen. With Angelina's Cinematic Record in tow, he began to fade into the shadows, sending himself between worlds and into the Shinigami's world of existence.

The sound of the piano disappeared and was replaced with a deathly silence. The redness of the library changed to plane white walls of the offices. He found himself in William's office, a place he knew that, at the hour, William was still out reaping souls. He scoured the desk and, amazingly, found the pink pen tucked away in a drawer.

The pen would change lives with a single edit.

He flipped through her book and found the most current page. She was still playing the piano, his absence was unnoticed. Dabbing the pen to his tongue, he brought it to the words that were rapidly producing on the page and quickly wrote a sentence that he knew he would regret:

_Angelina Durless forgets the deal she had made with her butler Grell Sutcliff. Her mind is free to determine the fate of her nephew when the time comes for confrontation._

And now her choice of actions will no longer be determined. He would leave it up to her, entirely, as to what their fates will be. He returned the pen to its proper place. He will uphold his end of the deal but she will have no recollection of what had taken place. This will be as far as he would go to manipulate her, but now he was no longer in control; he now gained back his play, a play that would write itself and be untraceable.

If he were to enjoy her, now and after her death, he would rather remember by her character, one of which whose motives and actions would drive her to the brink of insanity. To the brink of Jack the Ripper. He closed her book and began to dissolve into the darkness, returning to his temporary home with Angelina. He sent away the book and, in the comfort of his place, began to make his way to her parlor.

He found her playing, he smiled and cleared his voice. He began to sing along with her piece. She turned to look at him and he smiled at her.

_"HEART of my heart, my life and light,  
If you were lost what should I do?  
I dare not let you from my sight,  
Lest Death should fall in love with you."_

* * *

A/N: Yes, slightly OOC but hey, I wanted to write a love story, ha ha. I enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have loved it as well.

**READ AND REVIEW~!**


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